Cursed Beginnings
by ThereIsOnlyZuul
Summary: The origin of the Covenant curse (Clive Barker's Undying videogame).


I love Clive Barker's Undying! It's such a great game and I'm always sad that, although it was a critical hit, it wasn't a commerical success. Sequels were cancelled and the original story has hacked and slashed for time and money constraints. Such a shame. As such, I've always had a few stories floating around in my mind - and here's one of them! This is an origin story to the Covenant's curse out of Jeremiah's POV.

Enjoy, and if you do, please review!

Cheers!

* * *

Back when I was a child, no more than fourteen years old, I sentenced my four siblings to death. Until recently though, I had not known this. All those years ago it was all just child's play: a prank to scare them as our father encouraged me to do. Honestly, I should have seen it coming; my siblings becoming something like death omens during the last days of their lives. Being the fool that I am it is not until my own dying breathes that I've come to realize the curse that I accidentally placed on my siblings - and on myself - is one far more powerful then I ever hoped to stop.

Our Estate is one of vast expanses of land. Rolling hills to all sides, coast line with hidden caves, small islands scattered with ancient runes (scattered at random, at least that's what I believed until the deaths and… _rebirths_ of my siblings).

As children my four siblings and I would stomp about the Estate playing games: as any regular children would. We played hide and seek among the many rooms in the Manor and tormented the hired help with pranks and, more often than not, the mess we would leave in our wakes.

On the fateful day that I inadvertently cursed the remaining of my already withering bloodline the Estate had seemed darker than it had ever been. Ever since I had discovered my father's occult book collection the entire Estate was grey and dismal. Looking back now, it was nearly like it was trying to hide from what it saw as an inevitability.

With a book in hand - a thick tome with a leather cover and a strange symbol stamped in to it - I led my hesitant, if not terrified, brothers and sisters to our demise.

It happened on a small isle that was visible only when on the cliffs to the west of the house. The waters surrounding it were treacherous and I needed the help of my two brothers, Aaron and Ambrose, to steady and row the oars so that we wouldn't crash into coastal rocks and drown. Fortunately (or rather, unfortunately) we made it to the isle unscathed; aside from when our youngest sister, Lizbeth, became sick over the side of the boat. It was then that our oldest sister, Bethany, demanded we turn around. I only laughed and said it was the rough sea making us feel sick. I was wrong of course: it wasn't the sea…

Upon landing the boat on a small sandy beach, Aaron and Ambrose pulled the boat out of the water onto the sand while I led Lizbeth and Bethany up the slight grassy slope to the top of the isle. There were many small isles that I could have rowed to, but this one was special. It was covered in strange stones, twelve feet tall and ancient. Just as old, if not older than the famous Stonehenge. I found mention of it in the book that I held tightly in my hands. It called them the Standing Stones and as I approached them, I saw they had the same symbol carved into them as was stamped onto the cover of the book. Reaching out to touch the stone I was surprised to find that the carving burned red hot under my finger tips and the air had become agitated - whipping the sea into a frenzy and swirling the clouds violently - as if excited on a molecular level that we had finally arrived.

More than a little unnerved I turned away from the stone and headed towards a small stone altar that stood in the middle of these strange monuments. I placed the book down and called for my siblings to join me. My brothers came trotting up the hill, while my sisters emerged from behind one of the mighty rocks. Lizbeth looked gravely pale: even with her porcelain complexion it was obvious that she had been sick again.

"We've had enough of your silly game, Brother," said Bethany as she stood tightly clenching Lizbeth's shaking hand. "Take us back to the Manor."

"Or what?" Sneered Ambrose. "Will young Lizbeth piss her knickers like she did when we trapped her in the pantry?" He looked past Bethany to Lizbeth who had moved to hide behind her older sister's skirts. "Are you scared, poor little bird?"

Hardly a second went by before she replied: "Yes! This place makes my belly hurt!"

It was then that I came to my senses and realized what I was doing. These were my brothers and sisters that I was tormenting; one was even so young she had no concept of pride and humility and when blatantly insulted and then asked if she's scared, replies with an honest yes.

"Perhaps it is time to stop this."

"Are you scared, Jeremiah? Is Bethany going to have to hold your hand too?"

"I'm not scared!" I shot back fiercely, hoping to wipe the smirk off of Ambrose's handsome face. "I'm concerned for Lizbeth. She's much too young for all this."

"Did you not realize how young your own sister was before this afternoon?"

"Oh, I realized how young she was, but I completely underestimated how cruel you are!"

"I'm the one that's cruel?" Ambrose shouted as he made a grab for my throat. Aaron caught his arm and, although a thin and frail looking boy, restrained Ambrose to keep him from leaping at me for an attack. "You're the one that's scaring your younger siblings, Jeremiah. Aren't you supposed to be the responsible one? The one that keeps us out of trouble instead of putting us in it?"

"Yes, and I do realize that now!" I shouted.

"So you're going to back out of your stunt, Brother? Brought us all the way out here on the treacherous waters only to have your true lily-liver'd nature come through? How pathetic!"

I could feel my face getting red and my breathing was increasing rapidly. Recalling that moment, I can't remember if it was because of anger towards my stubborn brother, or the horrid sense of expectation that was growing in my belly, that I become so flustered and cock-sure. I turned sharply on my heel and strode to where I had set the mysterious occult book down.

"Everyone come here and hold hands in a circle," I said from where I stood at the rock altar. Opening the book I flipped through the pages without even looking. The page that I landed on was a complex looking ritual. Science would lead me to believe I had landed on the page I did by nothing but sheer coincidence; but on that fateful day, there were more than the forces of nature at work. I began to read the ancient Latin scrawled upon the page: loudly so that my siblings might hear the dark magic I was controlling… the curse I was unknowingly placing on them and myself.

"Take us home, Jeremiah!" Shouted Bethany as Lizbeth quivered behind her.

"It's hardly funny anymore," commented Aaron as he finally released Ambrose's arm.

"Come stand in a circle now!" I commanded, anger flaring inside me then like the cancer that flairs inside me now. I continued to chant.

"You never could take an insult without trying to prove something afterward!" Yelled Ambrose.

"Stand in a circle now, or I will damn your souls to Hell!" I screamed as I lifted the book above my head. Like the stone I had touched only moments before, the symbol on the cover of the book burned hot.

Lizbeth immediately ran forward from her hiding spot. She was so young and weary of Hell as the maids would use it to keep her ferocious temper under control. "I don't want to go to Hell!" She yelled as she approached me.

Bethany followed after her. Ever scientific and rational, she was more concerned about the tears streaming down young Lizbeth's face than the curse I had threatened her with. Aaron followed silently after his twin sister, leaving only Ambrose.

"Brother, come here! I can not contain this curse without all of us in a circle!" I had no idea what I was saying: whatever sounded the scariest I suppose. Lizbeth, I remember, was scared out of her wits, and as an unnatural feeling wind whipped around our heads, even Bethany and Aaron were beginning to look nervous. Ambrose though, he stood his ground with arms crossed, refusing to come forward. "Do you dare curse us all, Ambrose?"

"I don't believe it is I who has cursed us," he replied with a cool smile as he finally walked forward. He stood between Bethany and Lizbeth, taking their hands roughly in his. Bethany sneered and Lizbeth howled louder: neither sister liked Ambrose and this situation hardly made it better.

"Take my hands, Bethany and Aaron!" I yelled over the wind. They did without question. "Repeat after me!" Aside from myself and Bethany, the others had not taken Latin and as I read the incantation, our younger siblings struggled to repeat the phrases while Bethany looked on, becoming paler and paler. _"_ _O Sors! Iustus ut Luna! Si is can non reperio a via , is mos planto unus. Nos quisnam es super morior tutus vos. Exorior! Rex rgis of nex! Permissum mihi exsisto vestri vas pro non totus mei vadum intereo. Rex ero prognatus iterum."_  
We repeated this several times: screaming it to be heard over the wind. We clenched each others' hands tightly and quivered together as we watched the sky darken above us. After the fourth or fifth time screaming this seemingly random Latin to the sky everything suddenly became normal again. The sky lightened, the wind stopped whipping, the sea rested after its relentless churning. Confused but relieved, we released each others' hands.

Ambrose stalked away immediately, arms swinging angrily at his sides. Without the support of Ambrose holding on to her, Lizbeth collapsed to the ground. She had tears streaming down her face and, as Ambrose had taunted, she had wet her knickers in fright. Aaron stooped down beside her and tried to dry her tears with his handkerchief. I tried to go to her as well, but Bethany caught me under my arm and led us out of earshot.

"What the hell were you reading just now?" She demanded angrily. She may have only been twelve, but she was intelligent and knew exactly how to speak her mind.

"It's just one of Father's occult books -"

"The incantation didn't sound… serious to you?" she said. "How did you find it? Why did you choose that one to read here at these Neolithic rocks? What do these damn symbols mean?" She said as she pointed to one of the stones.

"I don't know - it is all just a joke! A prank! Nothing happened."

"What about the wind and clouds that came out of nowhere?"

"Freak storm," I shrugged. "It happens all the time on the coast."

Bethany glared at me, unconvinced that my cool and level head were not completely an act. "O Fortune! Just as Moon!" She exclaimed suddenly. She was repeating the incantation back to me in English. "If he cannot find a way, he will make one. We who are about to die salute you. Come forth! King of the Undying! Let me be your vessel for not all of me shall die… doesn't sound like plain, simple fun if you understand what you're saying."

She was right. She was absolutely right. Spoken in plain English, it was a disastrous curse I had placed on all of our heads. "Have I cursed us all? Promised our souls to the King of the Undying? Whoever that may be."

"I don't believe too much in curses and magic, but something just happened here… you should speak with Father."

Speaking with Father was the last thing I wanted to do, but I gave a curt nod of my head anyways. Bethany stared at me for a moment more before leaving me on my own to tend to Lizbeth. I stood where I was for a while longer, staring intently at a Standing Stone that was mere inches from me. The symbol carved into it had changed.

I looked closer. The symbol carved into it - carved into all of them - was suddenly a different colour than the sullen stone. They were all a murky colour of crimson that appeared to drip down… like blood. The wind stirred again: it sounded like a low, hissing voice:

… _The Undying King shall rise again…_

I gathered my siblings as quickly as I could; piling them into the boat, hiding my fear of what just happened as fear of what would happen should we be discovered not completing our studies. Ambrose and I pushed the boat into the water but I alone rowed the boat back. I was responsible for all this, so it was my job to protect us from it. I rowed as quickly as my prepubescent physic would allow: abandoning my pride, my soul, and the large, mysterious book on the isle of the Standing Stones.


End file.
